


Words Build Up In You

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: At this point idk what’s angst anymore, Character Study, Denial of Feelings, Guilt, Internal Monologue, M/M, Other, POV Asra, POV Second Person, They/Them pronouns for apprentice, Wordcount: 100-1.000, this might be angst but it also might not be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Asra reminisces about his past relationship with Julian, and his current relationship with Julian and with his apprentice,andabout their relationships with each other.





	Words Build Up In You

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song _All the Same Mistakes_ by Mieka Pauley. 
> 
> I’m _so_ tired.

“What was he to you?” The question, asked so many hours ago by your apprentice, refuses to take its leave from your ears. It plays on repeat in your mind, as solid and unwavering as if the apprentice were still beside you, repeating their query again and again and again.

_What was he to you?_

Ilya had been a friend. He was someone you’d worked alongside, somebody you’d known. They’re the answers you gave the apprentice, and now, they taunt you as they circle through your head. Your own words haunt you, mock you.

They aren’t the answers that had leapt unbidden to your tongue. They aren’t the answers that feel _right._ They are the answers that sounded good. That framed them all in a positive light. They were the answers you’d given freely, not the ones you’d hidden in the deepest recesses of your mind.

Ilya had been a pawn. He was someone you’d worked to forget, somebody you’d used.  

While it’s more truthful, you don’t want to admit any of that. Not to yourself, not to your apprentice. _Especially_ not to your apprentice. Not when they look at you with such hope in their eyes, asking you without asking for permission to pursue Julian Devorak romantically. You can’t bring yourself to disillusion them to Ilya’s tendencies, the way he throws himself into things without knowing anything about the way they’ll end.

You can’t bring yourself to disillusion the apprentice to _your_ tendencies, either, a sly voice reminds you, just quiet enough in the dregs of your subconsciousness to be the Magician. You do your best to ignore him. To ignore _yourself._  It’s harder than you wish it to be.

 _What was he to you?_ the Magician murmurs. The words wrap around you like an embrace, squeezing… squeezing so tightly you can barely breathe. You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to meditate. Deep breaths, in and out. One after another. If you meditate, your own shortcomings cannot harm you. You can find your place in a world of your own creation. You—

A sound breaks your focus, drawing you back out of your desperate attempt at escape. Downstairs, you can hear hushed voices.

Your heart leaps traitorously in your chest at the thought of Ilya breaking in to see you, and then clenches painfully a moment later when you realise that, even _if_ that was the case, Ilya would no longer be breaking in to see _you._

“I’m sorry,” you hear your apprentice murmur. Ilya’s voice floats up the stairs. You can’t make out his response, but his tone is clear; you recognise it well. He’s apologising, too. Something happened between them, perhaps?

“Asra won’t tell me what happened between the two of you,” the apprentice says, slightly louder than before. Interrupting. You nearly smile. Your apprentice has always been a feisty one. “But,” they continue. “He’s implied enough.” Quieter. “I don’t _need_ to know. It’s not my place. But I don’t blame you for it. Or for anything that’s happened.”

You can feel yourself slipping, emotions trailing through the cracks in the mental armour and threatening to flow overboard. Your apprentice is strong, so _strong_. You don’t deserve them. And they… deserve Ilya.

It hurts to admit it to yourself. When the apprentice climbs the stairs and enters the room, you feign sleep. They stop at your side, and you feel their fingers combing through your hair in a fond manner before they cross to their own bed and curl up. Within minutes, they’re asleep.

And _you_ have a lot to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> Hnnnng
> 
> Come scream at my on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans. Kudos/comments are love.


End file.
